


Shooting Star

by PaddyChan



Category: Naruto
Genre: Character Death, Drama, I'm so sorry, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 08:20:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16193705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaddyChan/pseuds/PaddyChan
Summary: Shooting stars are said to fulfil wishes. However, nobody can be certain of any wishes but their own.





	Shooting Star

He was so very beautiful.

His hair messed up, the unruly locks even worse than usual -no surprise, considering he’d had his hands tangled in them mere minutes ago-, his usually milky white skin still the tiniest amount flushed from their love-making, his lips still swollen from their heated kisses. His own cock jumped a little at the view, even though his lower half was covered by a soft blanket.

So very beautiful.

It was as if the gods themselves decided to take the most devastating beauty out of everything they had ever created, pouring it into him. His eyes roamed down the pale, naked skin illuminated by nothing but moonlight. There were the last remains of sweat glistening on his chest, the pale nipples he loved so very much to tease, the scar decorating- he flinched. The scar… barely noticeable, jut a thin silvery line on pale skin, three inches long.

He had put it there.

He had made him bled, hurt him, fought him with all he had -there was no restrain in battle, not with him. Not with his rival, the only one who ever had any chance of defeating him if he didn’t pay his uttermost attention every second. 

There was no way to be half-hearted when it came to Madara.

Hashirama’s fingers tingled with the desire to comb a stubborn strand of hair from his lover’s face, but he restrained himself, knowing he would wake the sleeping Uchiha if he did. Part of him hoped he woke up, just to hear the adorable sound whenever he was annoyed by being disturbed in his rest pass his lips, before he would mutter about Hashirama being lucky with his way tamer locks.

It had taken him months to get to Madara, to slip past the walls he had erected around his heart (and once or twice, a blow to the gut), but finally, _finally_ they were… he didn’t know. Probably because no one else besides him and his ebony haired lover knew what they were doing behind closed doors. Hashirama’s gaze lowered. It had been three weeks since the Uchiha had allowed him to take him, claim his body… love him, really truly love him. Madara didn’t do things half-assed. He would give away all, body and soul -or nothing at all. He was so very passionate, so very kind in his own way, so very… yet nobody else noticed.

When Hashirama had healed the baby bird in his office, the secretary had looked at him with shining eyes, praising his kind heart.

It had been Madara who had brought the bird to him in the first place.

When the troops from Suna had signed the cease-fire, the people had praised him for making peace.

It had been Madara who had chosen the right words to write down.

When they had spared in the forest and he had taken a blow that smashed him through a couple of his own tress, the guards had been on his side within a second.

It had been Madara who had taken a punch that likely broke two ribs beforehand, since they had agreed to give it all.

 

Hashirama lowered his head. No matter what Madara did, no matter what happened, he was met with cold gazes, suspicious whispers and distrust. While they had been still at war, the Uchiha had looked up to their leader, him being the only one who could take on Hashirama. Now, that the war was over, their use for Madara had nullified, it seemed.

Madara considered leaving the village for good. Hashirama had blanched when the Uchiha had told him such, begging him to stay, offering him a position as his advisor, by his side, where he belonged… only to be told by Tobirama the Uchiha would not be accepted by the people of Konoha as such.

He had felt as if his heart was torn apart in his chest when he confessed to Madara his idea had been rejected. 

The Uchiha had been quiet for a moment, before he turned around to walk home, stating he had to take care of his falcons.

A single tear slipped down the Hokage’s face. He loved this man more than everything, would gladly give his life if it meant he would finally be happy in this village he helped create. But no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he succeeded elsewhere… he always failed when it came to Madara.

But he couldn’t let go, couldn’t lose him, now, that they finally had a chance of being together, of being happy.

Eyes blurry, he watched the stars twinkle in the night, their light forcing the darkness at bay. As a child, his mother had told him stories about them, how they could fulfil wishes, but only, if one saw them moving, which they rarely did. His father had told her to stop feeding nonsense to his children the very next day.

It was then, he noticed a twinkle getting brighter, leaving behind a rope of light, as it made its way somewhere else onto the night sky. Hashirama’s eyes widened with disbelieve. A moving star! It had to be, what else could it be? He opened his mouth. “I wish for-” Madara. He wished for Madara to stay by his side forever, for Madara to be finally happy. But that would be egoistical, wouldn’t it? He was the Hokage now, the leader of the people of their village hidden in the leaf… but he wanted so very much to- forcing his eyes shut, he breathed out: “For the most dire wish of the people of Konoha to be fulfilled.” There would be another moving star. Another one he could make his wish to, his very personal one. And then-

Madara’s chakra behind him clenched, as the Uchiha dragged in a struggled breath.

“Madara?” Within the beat of an eyelash, Hashirama was at his lover’s side, glowing green hands reaching for him. “What is it, what is wrong? Madara!” There was everything wrong and nothing at all. His organs were perfectly healthy as they had been when he last checked, no bleeding, no tumour, just… just Madara’s heart that refused to beat, no matter how much chakra he forced into it, no matter how much he struggled to force it working again.

Pupils blown wide, Madara’s pitch black irises starred at him as his lung clenched, refusing to draw in air. 

“Madara, darling, please, I… need… I just need…” A single minute more, there had to be a way to get his lover’s heart beating again, to fill his lungs with air, to- he could see the pain reflecting in the black orbs of the Uchiha’s eyes, as he willed himself to speak. “Hashi-ra-“ “Keep your breath, keep it… you need it. Just a minute, just one, I promise!” Teeth grit, he forced himself to focus. There was no way a human heart would take this treatment and still refuse working. The amount of charka he infused were insane, yet the muscle refused to clench and pump precious blood. 

And then, within a single second, Madara relaxed in his arms and Hashirama breathed out. Finally, he’d made it. There was no way he would ever let something like this happen again. He would check daily -hourly- on Madara to make sure he was alright, to make sure he was safe, even if he would probably get his ass handed to him, once the Uchiha was fed up with it. He would get whoever did this, and make them pay, as soon as Madara woke up again.

Except his chest was silent.

Hashirama blanched. He was… there was… “No…” Eyes still half opened, Madara’s empty gaze met his. There was no glint left. “Nononono…” He cradled the Uchiha’s pale face in his calloused hands. “Darling? Please, I… I can’t…” Tears were gathering in his eyes, dripping down his cheeks, right onto Madara’s silent chest. How? He was the world’s best medical shinobi, there was nobody who even came close to his abilities. How was- _I wish for the the most dire wish of the people of Konoha to be fulfilled._

 _That Uchiha is a monster. I wish he’d just leave us alone…_

_Hashirama-sama should have killed him back when they fought…_

_Maybe he’ll just drop dead._

The tears stopped falling, as he remembered the words he had heard whispered behind Madara’s back, whenever people thought he wasn’t paying attention. How he had so dearly hoped they would change their minds once they realised how very precious the Uchiha leader truly was; that he was willing to give everything for his family.

No.

_Maybe he’ll get a heart attack. Would be fitting for someone like him, wouldn’t it?_

There was no way…

There was no way he had just…

His fingers trembled as he closed Madara’s empty eyes, his own strangely dry suddenly.

He had fought with everything he had for these people, for this village, nails and teeth, body and soul. He had wanted to be with Madara, the one he had fallen in love with when he had only been a boy skipping stones at a river, years and years ago.

He had fought for every single one of them and all they wished for was for the love of his life to die.

 _Sometimes you need to think of yourself a little more, Hashirama._ He could hear Madara’s voice as if the Uchiha was sitting but an inch away. _You’ll get yourself killed if you don’t._

If he’d just… if he had only just wished for Madara to be happy, no matter if it was by his side, no matter if it was in this village. If he had just… 

The tears started to fall freely once again.

He had wanted to make his people happy, had been willing to do everything for them to stay safe, had sacrificed his own desires and wishes to protect them.

They had taken Madara.

He had taken him.

Why had his happiness been worth less than the village’s? Why didn’t he-

_I’m sorry, Madara, the advisors think you’ll be too intimidating at the banquet._

_I’m sorry, Madara, the teachers asked for Tobirama to take the teams._

_I’m sorry, Madara, I wanted you to be Hokage._

Sorry had he been… sorry and sorry and nothing had ever changed. 

It hadn’t been him who had taken to blow, it had been Madara, over and over again. Because not once he had stood up, not once he had decided to simply include the Uchiha no matter what everyone thought, not once had he told Tobirama to-

_Please don’t leave! They will see your worth, I promise! Just don’t leave me alone, I couldn’t bear you gone._

Why? Why, why, why he been so selfish again and again and again? If Madara had left… if he’d let Madara leave, he would still be there. Not in this village, but alive, his heart beating, as he maybe, just maybe, was happy somewhere else. Somewhere he was trusted like the precious being he was and not this godforsaken village.

Carefully, he gathered the Uchiha in his arms. His body was starting to cool, stiffness already taking over his limbs. Hashirama choked on a sob, as he cradled the body closer to his chest and smoothed the unruly hair from his face.

 

Ignoring his shoes, he stepped outside, in nothing but a pair of trousers, Madara been covered in his robe. The red Hokage-headdress Madara had so often teased him about was left behind. He wouldn’t need it any longer.

Konohagakure had taken from him what mattered most, his own selfishness allowing them to. None of them had any right to see Madara, now, that their wish had been fulfilled in the most cruel way, as none of them would see himself again, either.

He had given all he had to this village, only to lose what little remained due to their hatred and his inability to set the single thing right that mattered most. His duty was more than fulfilled, there was nothing more he had to give.

He kissed Madara’s cold cheek, as he disappeared into the forest the village had been named after.

**Author's Note:**

> I nearly cried writing this but somehow I just couldn't not...  
> Actually, I wanted to include another ending, a waking up from this nightmare of Hashirama's, however, sometimes life IS a nightmare of our very own creation. This world can be a cruel place and sometimes, just sometimes, it is better to stay close to our own wishes and let those of others go to hell.


End file.
